All Those Years
by Four and Twenty Blackbirds
Summary: Tells what happened during the 19 years between the last chapter and the epilogue in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. It might continue after that point . . . Warning: this story is post DH, and therefore contains spoilers. HG, RH.
1. The Next Morning

**All Those Years**

Summary: This story documents what happened during the 19 years between the last chapter and the epilogue in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. It might continue after that point . . . I'm not exactly sure of everything that will happen. H/G, R/H

Warning: this story is post DH, and therefore contains spoilers. If you have not read Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, I strongly discourage you from reading this story until you have.

**Chapter 1: The First Day**

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Harry Potter is the wonderful creation of a brilliant genius (J.K. Rowling) who is not me. Happy?

**Harry**

Harry Potter was 17 years old. He had unruly black hair, emerald green eyes, and a prominent scar on his forehead that was shaped exactly like a lightning-bolt. And Harry Potter had just defeated Voldemort, the darkest wizard that had ever lived and the one who had killed Harry's parents when Harry was but a baby. Harry Potter had been an orphan since the age of one. Harry Potter had also been famous since the night he was orphaned because it was then that the aforementioned dark wizard had tried, and failed, to kill him. It was on that night, the night that Voldemort had killed Lily and James Potter, that Harry became the first person ever to survive the killing curse. Harry had been all too aware of his renown from the time that he was eleven, and now he was held in even higher esteem, if that was possible, than he'd been before. He had now survived the killing curse no less than twice and he'd rid the wizarding world of its most dangerous wizard. In Harry's opinion, however, he was no celebrity; he thought that he was the cause of the many casualties of the war against Voldemort. If it weren't for Harry, he thought, Fred Weasley would be alive and Teddy Lupin would have parents who were alive and able to care for him. But Harry knew that the people who had fought Voldemort – all of Harry's friends who were family and the rest of the opposition – had been fighting their own battles. They wanted Voldemort gone too, and they were willing to die for that to happen. Too many of them did die, but there was nothing that Harry could have done to stop the deaths and he knew that. Nobody had died in vain.

If he were awake, Harry would have shuddered at the thought of the great hall lined with victims, and at the thought of poor Teddy having to grow up like him – with his parents only in his dreams. Then he'd have to work to keep from crying, and promise himself that Teddy would have a much happier childhood than Harry's was. If he were awake, Harry would have then thought of the Dursleys, and even though they'd treated him horribly as a child, Harry would have closed his eyes and hoped that they were safe. He'd also hope, though, that he'd never have to see them again.

But Harry Potter wasn't awake. He was sleeping in his four-poster bed in the seventh-year boys' dormitory, clutching his eleven inch wand of holly and phoenix feather and blissfully unaware of what had just happened at Hogwarts. And then Harry slowly started to wake up from the first deep sleep that he'd in a long while. He stretched his arms above his head and emitted a large yawn, reached to the table beside him and placed his glasses back on his nose, and sat up. Only then, with the red and gold Gryffindor hangings of his bed surrounding him, did the events of the last 24 hours come rushing back to Harry. Voldemort was dead, and Harry had killed him. Ron and Hermione, the best friends that anybody could ever wish for, were sleeping in their own beds, and Ginny . . . well, Voldemort was dead, wasn't he? And that meant that Harry would not put Ginny at risk if he were to date her again . . . Harry's head filled with idyllic thoughts of Ginny kissing him, with her arms wrapped around her neck and his on her waist. But then he realized that he was famous, and that Ginny would probably not want to live a life filled with stares and notoriety. He didn't want that either, but he had no options, and Ginny did. And Harry, once again, wished that he was a normal guy who could date whomever he wanted. So Harry Potter, a wizard who'd accomplished more things and seen more suffering in 17 years than most people see in their lifetime, fell dejectedly back onto his pillow and tried his hardest not to cry.

**Ginny**

Ginny Weasley, a sixteen-year-old red-head, was sitting in the Gryffindor common room, waiting for Harry to wake up and come down, when instinct told her to go to the boys' dormitories. She followed her heart to the foot of Harry's bed, then sat down with her back to the bed and hugged her knees. She didn't know why she'd come, but she knew that she wanted to be there for Harry when he woke up. After a few minutes of waiting, Ginny heard a muffled _pfff_ noise, like air wooshing out of a pillow, and stifled tears from behind her. She gingerly stood up and peeked through the slightly ajar curtains on Harry's bed. His eyes were red, and he didn't appear to notice her presence until Ginny softly said his name. Harry looked up and saw her, and realized that he'd been crying. He quickly sat up and ran the back of his hand over his eyes, and Ginny put her arms around him. She didn't ask any questions – it was natural for him to be upset about the deaths, and to be sentimental because a part of his life, albeit a very bad part, was over. Ginny just wanted Harry to be happy.

She looked into his face then, and wanted very badly to kiss away his tears. Harry looked torn between wanting the same and wanting to push her away. Ginny decided that it had been too long since they had last kissed, and although they weren't together, she hoped that they would be soon. So she again followed her heart and leaned in toward Harry. He moved forward too, and their lips met softly. "You did it," she murmured against his lips, "It's over." And then he pulled away. "No," he whispered, "I can't." And then, to Ginny, he said, "You don't want my life. There will be press around every street corner, and you'll have ridiculous rumors about you put in the paper. Everybody will stare at us, and I can't do that to you." Fresh tears started to drip down his face, and seeing them, Ginny started to cry too. Then what he said sank in, and she snapped up straight. "Harry Potter!" Ginny reprimanded, "You know that I want to be with you. We were dating last year, and you were famous then, and you got stares then too! As hard as it is to deal with, I know that you are worth it, and I hope that you do too! If you think that your fame will deter me from being with you, mister, then you are sadly mistaken!" Then, more softly, "I know that it's what we both want, and it's what we both deserve." But Harry looked at her through tearstained eyes and shook his head. "No," he whispered, and Ginny ran out of the room in tears. She knew that she'd get through to him somehow, but she very much wanted to be the one to comfort him now.

Ginny ran down the boys' staircase, through the common room, and up the staircase to the girls' dormitories. She passed the seventh-year dormitory on her left, turned right to the sixth-year one, and collapsed on her own four-poster bed. She barely heard the footsteps that signaled the arrival of someone to comfort her.

**Hermione**

Hermione Granger, 17-year-old witch extraordinaire, was sitting on her bed in the seventh-year girls' dormitory in the Gryffindor tower at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry – a bed that she had not occupied in a year – when she heard the sound of running footsteps and then resigned sobs from across the hall. She knew that it was Ginny, and she was willing to wager that it had been Harry's pigheadedness that had caused Ginny's outburst. So Hermione walked to the sixth-year dormitory and offered Ginny a shoulder to cry on.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

After comforting Ginny, Hermione made her way to find Harry and Ron. She needed to talk to Harry about Ginny, and she . . . . well, she had other reasons to see Ron. To her surprise, she found Harry sitting in a chair by the fire in the Gryffindor common room. More surprising, however, were the tears that she saw trying to escape from his eyes. Harry was not a very emotional person – this Hermione knew from experience. So she walked over to Harry and started to soothingly whisper. "Ginny," she said, "really loves you. She has waited for you since you broke up with her and, although she's wanted so much to help you directly, she has had to fight here her own way, not knowing whether or not you were safe. I know that you felt the same way when we were gone, but you at least knew what she was doing. She didn't have a clue, and she's still waiting for you to come around to the fact that a relationship is what you both want. Even Ron can see it, and he's a bit . . . well, dense when it comes to these things. Harry, you really should talk to her. Really." And then Hermione left to pursue her own relationship.

**Ron**

Ron Weasley had his back turned when he heard the familiar footsteps of the person who he wanted to see most run into his room. He turned around, and the ball of motion that was a beautiful witch with bushy brown hair whizzed into his arms. He looked down at her and felt a grin tugging at his face. "Hey, Hermione." And then there was no more talking, because her hands, which before were around his waist, had made their way into his red hair and pulled his willing lips down to meet hers. "I'm so glad that we're both alive," she whispered. "I don't know if I could live without you." Ron kissed her forehead and responded, "I know that I couldn't live without you." And Hermione smiled up at him. And then, suddenly, she said that she had to go to the library and left, leaving a flabbergasted but elated Ron in her wake.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Hi! Thanks for reading my story. This is my first story, and I'd appreciate any constructive criticism that I can get. I know that this is a short chapter, and I'm sorry . . . I'll try to make chapters longer in the future. Also, if anybody is interested in beta-ing for me, please contact me! Thanks a bunch!


	2. The First Day

**All Those Years**

**Chapter 2: The First Day**

Disclaimer: I own Harry Potter only in my dreams.

**Harry**

After Ginny left his room, Harry sat on his bed for a while, then got dressed and headed down to the common room to sit by the fire. He didn't want to see Ron right away because when Ron had caught Harry and Ginny kissing last summer, Harry had promised him that he wouldn't mess around with her anymore. He did not intend to get together with Ginny, and yet he'd kissed her. Now Ginny, who rarely cried, was in tears. Harry felt doubly guilty. If Ron didn't call that messing around, Harry didn't know what it could be called. All he knew is that he felt terrible. Ginny, the girl who he'd broken up with for her own good and with whom he needed to stay broken up with for the same reason, was crying because of him. He had broken his promise to Ron, and made Ginny and himself unhappy.

So Harry walked down the stairs to the Gryffindor common room, and as he sat staring at the blazing, ruby fire, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked at Hermione's face, and her words coupled with his own doubts about his decision not to date Ginny put some hope in his mind. Maybe after the commotion from the battle at Hogwarts settled down, and after he'd cleared it with Ron, he could start to see Ginny again. With that hope in the back of his mind, he knew that he could keep away his tears for the time being. And so Harry went to talk to Ron. Not about Ginny yet, but that would come soon.

On his way up to his dormitory, a blur that was Hermione dashed by him, saying that she had to go to the library at least once more before she left Hogwarts. Everybody was leaving that day to stay at the Burrow for the summer. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had not finished their education, but they knew that they would not be impeded from doing anything in the future because of who they were and what they'd been able to do at the age of 17. Even so, they were planning to study over the summer and then take their NEWTs come fall. Everything was falling nicely into place.

When Harry reached the open door of the dormitory that had been where he'd slept since he was eleven years old, it was to find a stunned-looking Ron standing there. "The library," he said. "We've just won a war, and she wants to go to the _library_?" Harry looked at his best friend, and they both burst out laughing. Life, while still filled with its many obstacles, was somewhat back to normal.

**Mrs. Weasley**

Molly Weasley was a very emotional witch on the best of days. Right now, her emotions were even more muddled than usual. Her son had died, so she was understandably full anguish, but she was elated that the war against Voldemort was over and that they had won. She was worried, confused, and exhausted, but most of all, Molly Weasley was extremely proud of all of her children, including Harry and Hermione, who were hers in her heart.

Now, Mrs. Weasley was preparing for her son's funeral and for Harry's and Hermione's summer at the Burrow. Harry, Hermione, and Ron had decided to spend the night at Hogwarts, and Ginny had stayed with them too. Mrs. Weasley knew that this summer could be the last one during which Harry, Ron, and Hermione stayed with her, and she was certainly happy that they had chosen to stay, even though they were of age. Her husband was at Hogwarts picking up the kids now. Mrs. Weasley was awaiting their arrival from Hogsmeade and cooking them a large dinner to try to distract herself from the fact that her son's funeral was in two days. She made sure that she had some of everybody's favorite dishes.

Soon, Mrs. Weasley heard a distinct _pop_ from her living room. She hurriedly wiped her hands on the grimy blue dish towel that was hanging on the rack by her sink, replaced the towel, and rushed to greet her guests.

**Ron**

Ron Weasley had just apparated into his home, the Burrow, with his girlfriend and his best friend when his mother came from the kitchen and enveloped all of them in a large hug. When they were released, Ron informed Mrs. Weasley of the travel arrangements. "We apparated from Hogsmeade," he said, "Dad and Ginny are coming by floo – they should be here soon. It's good to see you, Mum. I never really saw you after your brilliant duel with Bellatrix. And to think, my own mother. I never would have imagined it." Mrs. Weasley blushed, then bustled around them, saying that she'd not touched the things that they'd left since the summer, and that they could have the same sleeping arrangements that they'd used the previous summer. And Ron, Hermione, and Harry thanked Mrs. Weasley profusely and ran up the stairs to talk.

**Mr. Weasley**

Arthur Weasley, a man with red hair who usually exhibited a bright smile on his face, had just traveled to Hogsmeade, where he met his two youngest children, along with Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. After taking them out to lunch, Mr. Weasly saw the older three disapparate, then took Ginny to the Hog's Head to floo home. He watched is daughter toss floo powder into the fire, step into it, and clearly say "The Burrow." Then Mr. Weasley did the same.

When he arrived at his house, he saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione running up the stairs with Ginny following relatively close behind. Then Mr. Weasley turned to his wife and saw tears streaming down her face. He walked over to her and wrapped his arms soothingly around her. "Arthur," she whispered, "Do you remember when Fred used to jump those stairs three at a time? I can't believe we'll never be able to tell him not to again." Mr. Weasley guided his wife to the couch, and they both sat down. She continued, "Everyone's coming over for dinner tonight, and I made everyone's favorites. Arthur, I made chocolate cream pie for Fred, and he won't even be here to eat it." And she buried her head in his shoulder and started to cry harder. Mr. Weasley rubbed her back, but tears were silently falling down his own nose too. He told his wife how proud he was of his son, and that if Fred had to die, he would have been happy to have died for his friends and family. After about 10 minutes, Mr. Weasley saw Mrs. Weasley dry her eyes and stand up to get ready for their dinner. He sat on the couch for a few more minutes, then went into the kitchen after his wife to see if he could help her.

**George**

George Weasley was half of a whole. Fred and George, peanut butter and jelly, needle and thread, salt and pepper, rock and roll, and the list goes on. The best things in life come in pairs, and now George wasn't part of a pair. It made him want to curl up and die, but he knew that if Fred were alive, he would have wanted George to keep running Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, and to keep laughing, so he was going to do it. He was in no state of mind to think of new products, but he and Fred had many ideas stored up that could be major successes. George could work on those and dedicate them to Fred. It would be hard, but he could do it, and eventually, George knew, he'd be able to move on. He'd never get over it, but he'd move on.

Now, George Weasley had to get ready to go to dinner at his parents. He knew that they and his whole family were grieving too, and he was going to do his best to cheer everybody up. The gears in his brain started to turn, and finally, George thought of the perfect thing; something that would be funny, yet would remind the family of Fred in a good way. George got ready, then apparated to The Burrow.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Hey! Thanks to everybody who has read and reviewed my story! And thanks especially to Handmaiden of Artemis for beta-ing for me!

If anybody has any ideas as to what George actually does, I would love to hear them. They'd help me get the next chapter out more quickly . . .

Also, I know that I called the last chapter by the name of this chapter at some point, and by its name somewhere else . . . so I apologize for that.

Thanks again for reading! And reviews are truly appreciated.

Until next time,

Four and Twenty Blackbirds


	3. Dinner and the Prank

**All Those Years**

**Chapter 3: Dinner and the Prank**

Disclaimer: There are many people who I would love to be. These include the following: J.K. Rowling, Sarah Dessen, Idina Menzel, Kristen Chenoweth, KT Tunstall, Jordin Sparks, and Jodi Picoult, and, if I were a guy, Adam Levine. Sadly, I'm none of these people. This means that I don't own Harry Potter.

**Ron**

Later on in the evening of the day that followed the battle at Hogwarts, Ron Weasley heard his mother calling his friends and him downstairs for dinner. They had been in his room talking with his sister about what they'd been doing and exactly how Voldemort had been defeated, and about what she'd been doing to fight at school. They were pretty sure that they knew what had happened, but they had wanted to make sure that they knew all of the details. "Coming, mum," Ron yelled down the stairs, and then the four friends stampeded down to the kitchen, eager to have dinner. When they reached their destination, they found Mr. Weasley, George, Bill, Fleur, Charlie, and Percy sitting at the table, and extra seats for them and Mrs. Weasley, who, knowing her, wouldn't be doing much sitting. It surprised Ron to see Percy sitting so calmly at th e table; he'd forgotten that his estranged brother had realized his wrongs and chosen to return to the family. Ron had trouble truly accepting Percy back when he'd betrayed his family in a time of need, but Percy had fought in the final battle against Voldemort. Ron felt that this counted for something, and Percy had never really done anything to harm the Weasleys. With time, Ron knew that Percy would be forgiven.

The dinner that followed was one of the best that Ron had had in a very long time. Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny sat at the four chairs at the end of the table, leaving the end open for his mother. The food was set on the table, and everybody dug in. There was roast chicken, steak, mashed potatoes, and many more of Mrs. Weasley's delicious dishes to be eaten. Ron was right across the table from Hermione, and he couldn't keep his eyes off her. Dinner was finished, and then the desserts were brought out. There were multitudes of impressive pies, tortes, and tarts, but the most impressive dessert by far was the large chocolate layer cake that had been decorated spectacularly. It was frosted with chocolate icing, and had a large yellow sun in the middle. On it, the cake read "Voldemort is gone. Here's to a new world." Between each of the rays of the sun stood a candle, each displaying the image of Fred Weasley, Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks Lupin, Mad-Eye Moody, or Dobby the House-elf. After the surrounding desserts had been devoured, everybody somehow still had an appetite for the spectacular cake. Mrs. Weasley cut it into eleven wedge-shaped pieces and distributed one piece to each person. After they had dug in and all of the cake had vanished from each person's place, George stood up. He stood stock-still, waiting until everyone at the table was staring up at him in surprised silence. Clearing his throat dramatically, he began: "In honor of Fred, that large elephant in the room, I have sprinkled Fred's Flower Fiesta mix onto the frosting of the cake. The idea was dear Freddie's, and it is scheduled to come out next month. The effects of the mix should start to happen about now . . . enjoy!"

**George**

George Weasley sat back and grinned as from all around him the most ridiculous looking sunflowers that he'd ever seen sprouted from the top of everybody's heads. The flowers were large and yellow, and had big smiling faces in the middle of them. Fred's Flowering Fiesta mix was an idea of Fred's in which a large daisy, sunflower, rose, or tulip would sprout out of the person's head and would sing a song of the prankster's composition. George had chosen to use sunflowers because he had wanted to make his family happy. Just as he was thinking this, the flower on his own head started chanting "Fred, Fred, Fred, Fred . . ." His father's flower chimed in with a harmonic chant, and then Percy's joined. After about 30 seconds, the rest of the flowers started to sing a melody of sorts that consisted of chanting "Fred, Fred, Fred Weasl! ey" to the tune of "Row, row, row your boat" over George's, Mr. Weasley's, and Percy's chord. And then the music came to an end, and laughter ensued. Even George's mother was shaking from laughter. George smiled at his handiwork. He had succeeded in making his family laugh in a way that remembered Fred.

As the laughter started to die down, George stood up again. He was greeted with the laughing eyes of his family and he started to speak. "Ron," he said, "I need a partner for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. I know that Fred would have wanted me to continue our business, and I'm sure that he would agree with me that, in his absence, the best choice of partner would be our dear ickle-Ronniekins. Will you join me in my work of corrupting young wizards and witches and ensuring that brilliant pranks will outlast us?" George looked at Ron, who looked astounded, a look he wore often, and nodded his head. "Are you sure?" he asked his older brother. George told him that he was, and, much to his mother's dismay, set off a firework in the dining room.

**Mrs. Weasley**

Molly Weasley felt tears of joy in her eyes. She loved seeing that George was moving on after his brother's death. She couldn't remember a time when her twins had been apart for more than a day, but George was coping as well or better than she was. Of course he was sad; you had to be sad, but sad was one thing and permanently depressed was another. Mrs. Weasley knew that both she and George, as well as the rest of her family, would come to terms with Fred's death. Mrs. Weasley reflected that although Fred had only lived for 19 years, he had had a successful and happy life, and he had fought bravely against Voldemort. It was hard to lose him, but they _could_ move on. And they would, with a bit of time. Life was already beginning to proceed as it normally did.

**Ginny**

Ginny Weasley looked at Harry during George's prank. She loved the little grin that he had displayed on his face while he was trying not to laugh, and she hated that he wasn't really talking to her. She hated more that he wasn't kissing her. Ginny needed to talk to him. She would put a stop to his self-sacrificing attitude. Although she was small, Ginevra Molly Weasley was a force to be reckoned with. Ginny knew that she would soon win Harry back – he was being ridiculous, and she knew that he was aware of the fact somewhere in that head of his. She knew that he still had feelings for her, and she would force them out somehow. Ginny decided that after Fred's funeral she would talk to Harry. With that out of her mind, she joined in laughter with the rest of her family and friends, and reflected that the world was much brighter! now th at Voldemort was dead. Life was good, and with a little luck, it would stay that way.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**A/N:** Okay, several points here.

1) Thanks again to everybody who has read my story, more thanks to everybody who has reviewed my story, and most thanks to beta (for being truly amazing, and going way above my expectations in a beta).

2) Wow, it's really hard to avoid all of the stories out there with similar summaries to mine. I hadn't gone looking for stories for a while, but when I did, I saw sooo many summaries that are similar to mine. I have a feeling that if I read these stories, I'll accidentally and unknowingly steal stuff from the authors . . . so if I see a story that has the phrase "between the last chapter and the epilogue" or something similar, I stay far, far away. It's hard to do.

3) There are several things that I've learned about reviews in the process of writing this story. First, that only a small percentage of readers leave them. I have 18 subscribers and 8 reviews. Believe me, it completely fills me with joy when I get an email saying, "Four and Twenty Blackbirds, the following member has added your story to his/her story alert subscription." I truly appreciate that. I do. But the ones I like even better say "Four and Twenty Blackbirds, the following review has been submitted to All Those Years: Chapter _n_." Those ones make me fly up into the air and dictate to my fingers from up there. That made no sense, but oh well . . . I always saw authors reminding people to review their stories, and would think _who doesn't review???_ Needless to say, I always review, unless I'm reading at last minute, rush out to do something, and forget. But I can't emphasize enough how much I appreciate you even reading!

Another thing that I learned is how much authors crave reviews, and how good they make you feel, even if they're two words long. Seriously, I wasn't expecting to get any reviews until I got to at least 3 chapters, but I got 5 reviews for my first chapter. So I wanted more. I'm not begging or anything, but I love to hear what you think! Alright, okay, enough chattering about reviews. This Author's Note will end up longer than the chapter if I don't end it soon . . .

4) I know that George's prank was incredibly stupid. I just couldn't think of anything else though, so I just typed whatever came into my head. Sorry about that. I promise (well, hope) that the next chapter will be better!!! George's speech is mostly my beta's . . . she suggested that George announce the prank with fanfare, and basically wrote that speech.

5) Don't worry; I'm not planning to write three chapters about every day in the nineteen years . . . I'm not even planning to write about every day. But some things just need to happen and to be said. I'm sorry if I've bored you with the lack of action . . .

Thanks for reading!

Four and Twenty Blackbirds


	4. The Funeral

**All Those Years**

**Chapter 4: The Funeral**

Disclaimer: JK Rowling is a brilliant genius, and she spent 17 years of her life writing about Harry Potter. I am only 15 years old, and I am by no means brilliant; therefore, I don't own Harry Potter.

**Harry**

The afternoon following George Weasley's prank – two days after the Battle of Hogwarts and Fred Weasley's death – was the afternoon of Fred's, Remus Lupin's, and Nymphadora Tonks Lupin's funeral. It would be a melancholy day, but it was a crucial step in the process of moving on. It had been decided that Fred, Remus, and Nymphadora would have a combined funeral because they had all died on the same day and they were all members of the Order of the Phoenix. Harry felt that this was a good idea for everyone involved because there would only be one day of mourning that the he and the Weasleys, as well as everybody else who was close to Fred, Remus, and Tonks, would have to endure.

Harry reflected on the plans for the funeral. It was to be held at the burrow, and George had told everybody to wear colorful clothing, instead of the traditional white funeral garb, because he felt that the funeral should be a celebrations of the lives, albeit short ones, of Fred, Nymphadora, and Remus. Earlier that morning Mrs. Weasley had gone shopping to buy Harry and Ron dress robes. Hermione and Ginny already had the appropriate clothing, and thus started getting ready for the funeral at a time that Ron had said was "ridiculously early." Harry's robes were bottle green, and very similar to the ones that Mrs. Weasley had picked out for him when he was fourteen and needed to bring dress robes to school for the Yule Ball. Of course, they matched his eyes perfectly, and Harry was grateful that he didn't have to go shopping to find his own. Ron was less grateful, because his robes were, of course, maroon.

Ten minutes before the start of the funeral, Harry and Ron descended the stairs of the burrow to find a kitchen full of people. Harry noticed that George's wishes had been carried out – the room was filled with purples, pinks, blues, greens, reds, and yellows and there was not a white robe to speak of.

Looking around the room, Harry's eyes fell first on Ginny. Facing away from him and talking to Charlie, she wore gorgeous green robes and had her hair, which was usually allowed to hang loosely down her back, pinned up elegantly. Externally she looked amazing, but Harry noted the tears in her beautiful brown eyes and wanted nothing more then to make those tears disappear and bring back her bright smile. Ginny's head turned to him, and she forced a smile. Then Harry moved his vision from her and onto the other people attending the funeral.

To Ginny's right, Mrs. Weasley was adjusting the tie that Mr. Weasley had insisted on wearing, tears present in her eyes too. Farther down the room, Bill's face was buried in Fleur's shoulder and Percy was standing awkwardly by himself. Harry saw Andromeda Tonks holding Teddy Lupin, Harry's godson. Teddy had a full head of lavender hair, and Harry noted that he had much more hair than the usual three-month-old. Across the room from Andromeda, Harry saw Xenophilius Lovegood wearing an outfit similar to the one that he had worn to Bill's and Fleur's wedding and looking at his daughter with an expression that was a mix between jubilation and amazement. Luna was sitting on the floor with a passive smile on her face.

Harry wandered into the yard and discovered that almost everybody who he knew was in attendance. There were Hagrid and Neville, Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbot, Katie Bell and Oliver Wood. The whole Order of the Phoenix had turned up, and most of the people who had gone to school with Harry were there too.

Harry, lost in thought, didn't notice right away the many people filing into the many seats that were set up in the Weasley's yard. Harry took his seat and listened to what was being said about the three dead Order members who had died in the fight against Voldemort. George spoke about Fred, as did Mrs. Weasley. Mr. Weasley spoke about Remus, and Andromeda talked about her daughter.

The speeches were very moving, and suddenly Harry felt a pang of regret. Although he still disliked Severus Snape, he felt that he should be able to have this kind of a funeral. Snape had led a hard life – he had been misjudged and in constant danger, and Harry wished that he had been able to tell Snape that he was forgiven. Without Snape's memories, Harry knew that he could not have defeated Voldemort. Harry had to fight the urge to cry. It had been an emotional journey, but it was over. Good people, like Snape, Fred, Remus, and Tonks had lost their lives, but Voldemort had been defeated. For the rest of the funeral, Harry was lost in his thoughts of the complexities of good, evil, and life in general.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**A/N: **Hello! Okay, I know that I promised longer chapters. I think that this is my shortest yet . . . they're usually around three pages and this is only about one and a half . . . I will seriously start writing longer chapters next time, but I wanted to get this chapter out before I leave for Minnesota for a week tomorrow. I'll be camping there with my extended family, but I hope to have some time to write. I won't have access to a computer, though, so this will be my last update until around the 20th . . . sorry!

I decided that I didn't want to write a sad funeral. Fred wouldn't have wanted everybody to crying over him; he'd want laughter . . . after all, that's what he devoted his life to. So I changed my original plan of writing a depressing funeral in which all of the mourners wore white (they wear black on a daily basis, right) to a colorful celebration of life (cheesy, I know). I've been to one colorful funeral in my life and countless black ones, and the colorful one was only about a million times better. Of course, there are still tears, but not much can be done about that!

Thanks, as always, to my readers, my reviewers, and especially my beta (who is, by the way, the best beta I could hope for. I am entirely lucky)!


	5. Reconciliation

**All Those Years**

**Chapter 5: Reconciliation**

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I am not JK Rowling and therefore do not own Harry Potter. I am also too tired to think of a creative way to phrase this . . .

**Ginny**

The next morning, June 1, 1998, Ginevra Molly Weasley woke up at the crack of dawn. She rubbed her eyes with her hands, and then stretched her arms above her head and yawned. Even though she was still incredibly tired, she slid out of bed and wandered drearily to the bathroom, where she brushed her teeth quickly and proceeded to take a shower.

Ginny hadn't gotten much sleep. The previous day had been Fred's funeral, and after getting in bed, Ginny had sat there with tears streaming down her face. When she finally fell asleep at about two o'clock in the morning, she was subjected to multiple nightmares, so when she awoke at five in the morning, she wasn't very well-rested. Ginny wasn't usually an early riser, but the nightmares in combination with the fact that she had been anticipating this day for awhile roused her from a not-so-peaceful sleep. It was the day that she promised herself that she would talk to Harry about his annoying, self-sacrificing attitude.

After dressing herself in jeans and a plain blue t-shirt, Ginny sat on the rickety, three-legged stool with cracking white paint that was placed in front of the bathroom mirror. She carefully combed through her red hair, then got off the stool and ambled down to the kitchen so she could eat. When she saw Harry looking rather upset and sitting at the dining room table, she stopped short and wondered if she should go in like she desperately wanted to or let him have a bit of privacy before she confronted him.

**Harry**

Harry Potter was sitting in the Weasley's kitchen, clutching a steaming mug of cocoa and contemplating issues that had been bugging him since the Battle of Hogwarts when Ginny slowly made her way to the kitchen. She stopped in the doorway when she saw him, and Harry felt a pang of sadness when he came to the conclusion that she didn't want to talk to him. He admired her beautiful, make-up-free face, then realized what he was doing and quickly moved his gaze to the contents of his cocoa mug. Harry's defenses against Ginny were melting almost as quickly as the marshmallows in his cup.

The guilt that Harry felt whenever he saw the red hair that was so like Fred's came flooding back to him. In his head, Harry knew that with or without him Fred would have been actively fighting against Voldemort's regime, but some part of him still felt that it was his fault and that he was intruding on the Weasleys because of it. And he still felt that Ginny would get a great deal of unwanted attention if he were to date her. Even so, Harry didn't think that he could avoid taking her into his arms if she stood any longer at the door looking so beautiful and concerned. And he didn't think that he could bear to hurt her again.

When Harry once again looked up from his almost marshmallow-free cocoa, he noticed Ginny's expression change from one of confusion and concern to one of determination. She strode over to him, pulled out the chair next to him, and sat down. "Harry, please talk to me," she said softly, but with a voice full of resolve.

"What do you want me to say?" Harry asked. "You know why we can't have a relationship. I don't want you to get hurt." He started to turn his head away from her again, but Ginny put one hand on either side of his face and turned it back to her. "Harry," she said again, "Are you bloody _mad_? I know that you are famous and that some girls won't appreciate me taking you. I know that, and I know that I still want to be with you. It was the same situation last year Harry. Yes, you may have defeated Voldemort, and I, as well as the whole wizarding world, commend you for that. But Harry, only people living under a rock didn't know of your existence before you defeated him. Your remarkable triumph over Voldemort has definitely gained you more respect, but Harry, it has _not _gained you more fame. Would you really rather lose me as a friend? Because Harry, I love you, and I know that you feel _something_ for me. I don't think that I could stand being _just friends_ with you. Because that's not what we are, and you know that."

Harry just looked at her for a bit. "You love me?" he asked, after a while. He had, of course, known that she had had a crush on him for a very long time, and that she was interested enough to date him, but they had never before actually declared their feelings for one another. Ginny flushed and looked at the table, then slowly nodded. "With all my heart," she said.

Harry gathered her into his arms, and as he saw the last marshmallow disappear from his hot chocolate, he turned his head to her and kissed her softly, then pulled her head against his chest. "I love you too," he whispered. "I think I always will." He knew that a relationship wouldn't be easy; that no relationship is. He knew that he would have to convince Ron that he meant to stay with Ginny this time, and that Ron might take a little while to convince. He knew that Ginny would be envied, and maybe even hated by some jealous, annoying girls, and that they might not treat her as well as she deserved. Harry also knew, though, that Ginny was worth it, and that so was he. They _could_ make it work. They would.

JKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKR

**Draco**

Four days later, on June 5, Draco Malfoy was celebrating his eighteenth birthday at Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire county. If it had been up to him, he would have had a quiet celebration at home or no celebration at all. But, unbeknownst to him, his mother had invited most of the Slytherins who had been in his year for a surprise party.

Draco had walked down the stairs from his wing of the house to join his parents for dinner, when people popped out from all around him and scared him out of his wits. He had not been amused. He understood that his parents were grateful that he was alive – he was grateful that he was alive – and that his mother had mixed feelings about the death of her sister Bellatrix, but he could have used a warning. He had not been able to re-comb his bleach-blonde hair, or to change into more appropriate party clothes. It did not make him happy.

He was relatively happy to see his old housemates, though. Gregory Goyle, Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode, Daphne Greengrass, Theodore Nott, and Blaise Zabini were all in attendance, and they all seemed happy to see him. Draco found himself looking for Crabbe by Goyle, but realized that he couldn't be there – he was dead. Still, he found it odd that Crabbe wasn't right by Goyle's side. Draco wondered why his mother had invited _Daphne Greengrass_.She was one of the stupider beings in Hogwarts, as were Bulstrode and Goyle, actually.But until that day, Draco had not noticed just how lonely he had been with nobody to talk to for a week.

After the party was over, Draco realized that, as much as he hated to admit it, he was really quite glad that Potter had defeated the Dark Lord, and that his parents had thrown him the surprise party. He was having more fun at his party than he had had since Lord Voldemort had returned. And he had received some nice gifts too.

Draco was sitting in his room eating what he considered to be his worst birthday present – Every Flavor Beans from Daphne – when his parents came in to talk to him. "Draco," his father drawled, "have you seriously considered marriage yet? It is your responsibility to provide a Malfoy heir. I expect you to start dating a nice, pure-blooded girl, and soon."

"Millicent Bulstrode seemed like a good match for you," chimed in his mother, "Comes from a respectable background and seems like she'd be a proper housewife to raise your children." At the thought of marrying Millicent, Draco tried to suppress a shudder. He then realized what his surprise birthday party was for – of course his parents wanted him to get married, and they wanted to meet prospective brides. If it were socially acceptable, they would have him married within the week. Tradition stated, however, that a Malfoy should have a "proper courtship of at least six years."

Draco thought of the girls in question: Pansy, Daphne, and Milicent. Bulstrode and Greengrass were too dependent – they really were dolts of the first degree. Pansy was also dependent, but not quite to the same degree. She was pretty, and she showed some interest in him . . . Draco could see marrying her. After all of the worry that he had caused his parents, he would find a bride to give them an heir. Draco decided to call on Pansy in the morning.

JKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJK

**Andromeda**

Andromeda Tonks had been having a hard spring. Her husband Ted had been captured and killed earlier in the spring, and exactly one week before, on May 29, her daughter and son-in-law had been killed, leaving Andromeda to raise their three-month-old baby boy by herself. It had been a very long time since Andromeda had taken care of a baby as small as Teddy Lupin, and she didn't have much experience with baby boys. She did have experience with metamorphmagi, though. Every time she looked to see the baby's hair change colors or nose change shape, she was painfully reminded of her deceased daughter. Every time she spoke his name, she was reminded of her husband, Teddy's namesake. Taking care of Teddy was hard on her emotionally and physically, but it also helped her to get over the deaths that had recently plagued her. In the image of her grandson, Andromeda was able to see her lost daughter and husband, and although that was hard, it helped her to know that a part of them lived on. All and all, Andromeda was happy.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**A/N: **First and foremost, thank you very much to my brilliant and incredibly helpful beta, Handmaiden of Artemis. Your beta-ing seriously helps my story!

Second, thanks to all of my reviewers!!! And to all of my readers!!! I love to hear what you think.

Third, I know that I promised a longer chapter. I feel really guilty. But it's something. I also couldn't figure out how to end this chapter. You know, the chapter honestly doesn't _end _here. But I didn't know what else to write. And it's getting late . . . Actually, the chapter should have ended at the end of the Harry/Ginny part, but I wanted to try to get you more. Soooo, it's another terribly short chapter. I also meant to write it sooner, but I had to do lots of family stuff when I was camping in Minnesota, so I didn't have much of a chance to write. Also, school starts in about a week and I have a boatload of summer homework that I need to do . . . ahh, the perks of taking all-honors classes . . . But I will update again soon, I promise. It probably won't be before school starts (August 30) though . . .

Fourth, I know that parts of this are cheesy and forced. Sorry!

Thanks again for reading!

-- Four and Twenty Blackbirds --


	6. Summer Days

**All Those Years**

**Chapter 6: Summer Days**

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone/Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone was published in 1997. I turned 6 in December of that year. When I was 6, I _read_ Harry Potter, but nobody wants to read anything that I wrote when I was in first grade (except maybe my mother . . .). It was nowhere near J.K. Rowling's standard. My writing isn't anywhere near her quality now, either, but . . . it's a tad bit closer. :) Aaanyway, I'm not J.K. Rowling, and I don't own Harry Potter. Unfortunately.

**Ginny**

The months of June and July passed quickly for Ginny. Her relationship with Harry was developing quite nicely – they had a few minor quarrels now and then, as they were both excessively stubborn, but their squabbles were usually resolved rather quickly. Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione played quite a bit of two-on-two Quidditch, usually pairing Harry, who was a natural Quidditch player and the best of the four, with Hermione, who was a tad uncomfortable on a broom. They often played chess too, and in that area Ron was the perpetual winner. Hermione, of course, made sure that there was time set aside for studying, as Harry, Ron, and Hermione were planning to take their NEWT tests soon and Ginny was going to be entering her final year at Hogwarts after a year with disrupted schooling.

Occasionally the four companions would disappear upstairs for hours, and sometimes Harry and Ginny would split from Ron and Hermione so both pairs could have a bit of time alone. Every now and then Ginny knew that Harry, Ron, and Hermione needed to have time by themselves, so she would help her mother cook or spend some time alone while the three old friends disappeared to reminisce and talk about the future.

The four rarely strode far from the Burrow, except to occasionally visit Teddy and Andromeda, because Harry felt a bit uncomfortable with the multitudes of staring that came his way from strangers. Harry had, of course, dealt with staring all of his life, but he wanted to wait until the new hullabaloo that came with his defeat of Voldemort settled down a bit before spending too much time in public.

It was now the Tuesday evening before Harry's birthday – Tuesday the twenty-eighth of July – and Ginny was having as much trouble thinking of a gift to get him as she had had the year before. Much had changed in her life during the course of that one, seemingly extra-long year. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were back home, Voldemort was dead, and the world was generally a happier place. Ginny was short one brother and had lost others that were close to her, but the whole world had gained much from the defeat of Voldemort, and Ginny knew that Fred would have been proud to have died so that the world could look the way it did.

Recalling the gift she'd given Harry the previous year, Ginny smiled faintly. It had taken Ginny a lot of courage to kiss him then. He had broken up with her, and was going off on his noble quest with Ron and Hermione. Ginny's smile faded as she remembered the look on her brother's face when he walked in on her kissing Harry, and she was glad that Ron was now, although grudgingly, becoming more accepting of Ginny's and Harry's relationship.

Ginny thought of how that kiss had haunted her the whole time that Harry was gone. What if Harry hadn't returned safely? What if that kiss had been their last one? Ginny shivered at the thought. Sometimes, even two months after the Battle of Hogwarts, Ginny could remember…she could hear Bellatrix's cruel laugh as she walked toward the castle with the other Death Eaters . . . she could hear Voldemort's high-pitched, cold voice proclaiming that Harry was dead . . . and she could see Hagrid walking toward Hogwarts, sobbing and carrying Harry's limp body. Ginny could remember the feeling of ice creeping into her heart at that vision of Harry, looking quite dead in the arms of Hagrid's shaking form, she could remember the anger and agony that she'd felt when Harry's body had disappeared and she had thought that somebody had stolen it, and she could remember the disbelief that she'd felt when Harry had pulled off his invisibility cloak in the middle of the battle. She had still not quite believed that he was living – not quite believed that he hadn't suffered the same fate as Fred. And Ginny didn't know what she would have done had Harry been killed, leaving her with nobody to comfort her.

And Harry did comfort her, every time that she needed a shoulder to lean on. Ginny wasn't a very emotional person, but only a very cold person could feel nothing during the aftermath of the Battle of Hogwarts, and Ginny was not at all cold; thus she shed her share of tears. Although Harry obviously had a hard time being affectionate and handling emotions (Ginny attributed this to his upbringing with the Dursleys), Harry was getting better at expressing himself and at reading Ginny's emotions, and he was nowhere near as dense as Ron when it came to emotions and girls. Ginny laughed as she heard Hermione and Ron yelling right as the thought crossed her mind – if only because it happened so frequently still and she knew that they would certainly patch it up within 10 minutes.

Ginny then realized that she had no more ideas for Harry's birthday presents than she had when she'd started thinking, and she chided herself for straying off that topic. Ginny decided that she would ask Hermione to accompany her to Diagon Ally the next day. They hadn't had a girls' day in a while, and maybe Hermione would have ideas for Ginny. With that in mind, a tired Ginny put her head on her pillow and drifted to sleep.

**Hermione**

The next morning, Hermione Jean Granger rushed to finish her breakfast as an impatient Ginny Weasley rapped her fingers on the table waiting for her. Ginny was obviously excited to get out of the house and impatient to find a birthday gift for her boyfriend. Hermione was also excited to spend some time in the busy streets of Diagon Alley and to spend some time with Ginny, as they had spent virtually the whole summer at the Burrow. Hermione had had a wonderful time of course, but she was ready for a change of scenery.

When she finally finished her breakfast, Hermione rushed upstairs to brush her teeth, and then she was finally ready to go. She and Ginny were traveling by floo powder because Ginny was still about a week and a half too young to take her apparation test. Ginny was ready to leave, and it was obvious to Hermione that Ginny didn't want Hermione to go rushing back for any last minute items that she had forgotten, so the younger girl practically forced Hermione to go first. Hermione reached into the flower pot in which the Weasleys kept their floo powder, and threw a pinch of it into the fire. She stepped into the fireplace and called, very clearly, "Diagon Alley." Hermione felt the familiar spinning sensation and saw the grates from other houses that were connected to the floo network whiz by her, until finally she was ejected into Diagon Alley. Ginny arrived moments later.

As Hermione looked around the area that surrounded her, she noticed that the wizarding street had changed dramatically since the last time that she'd been there. Where they had been gloomy and deserted before, all of the shop windows were bright, colorful, and filled with goods that were ready to be sold. People were bustling loudly through the streets, and they were all chatty and cheerful. Diagon Alley looked more like it had the summers prior to Hermione's first few years at Hogwarts than it had in any more recent year, and she was quite happy to see it this way again. Hermione and Ginny then set off down Diagon Alley, prepared for a full day of shopping and merriment.

**Molly**

Molly Weasley had been setting up the house for a birthday party. A _double_ birthday party. It was late afternoon on the 29th of July and both her daughter and Harry, the guests of honor, were away from the house (Harry and Ron had gone to pay a visit to little Teddy Lupin, who at five months old was a very bubbly baby with whom Harry greatly sympathized and who Harry visited often). Molly had already invited all of the guests and had just finished cooking the food and preparing the desserts. As usual, she had prepared an over-abundance of food, but she figured that it was better to have too much food than not to have enough. Also, she had arranged with Andromeda to make sure that Harry stayed at her house until 6:15, and she'd asked Hermione to keep Ginny out until the same time. So far, the plans had been pulled of flawlessly and generally easily.

In fact, the only aspect of planning that was not quite simple was making sure that Harry had a present for Ginny, because her birthday was on the 11th of August, which was over a week from the party. Molly knew that Harry would feel terribly bad if he didn't have one, but she didn't want Harry to know about the party. She had been putting lots of pressure on Harry to buy Ginny a gift, and then to wrap it, but Harry didn't show any signs of suspecting anything.

Molly ran upstairs to bring Harry's gift for Ginny down, as well as to bring her gifts down. She piled them on the mahogany table, and then, realizing that she was alone in the house and that everything was in place for the party, she sunk into the fraying couch and wondered how her children had grown up so quickly as she waited for the guests to arrive.

JKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKRJKR

**A/N:** Hey!!! I'm really sorry that this chapter has taken me ages to write . . . and that it's not very long. But hey, what can I do??? I do too much stuff and I take classes that are too hard and give me too much homework, which gives me too little time to write. So this is what you get!!! It may take me just as long to write the next chapter, and it may take longer, but I love writing, and I love this story, so I don't plan to abandon it!!! Just be patient. :) Love you guys. And I'm posting this tonight, per my beta's suggestion, so a mob of angry readers doesn't come after me.

As usual, thanks to everybody who has reviewed my story!!!! I really appreciate it. Reviews make my day. Truly.

Last but not least, thanks a million to Handmaiden of Artemis (a spankin' awesome beta and a truly swell friend). :)


End file.
